Anger Management With The Figgis Agency
by Red Witch
Summary: Cyril finally decides that it's time the gang gets the help they desperately need. Too bad nobody is there to help the therapist working with them.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters has gone to therapy. Even Glenda Price. She's from Dining with the Zarglorp. I thought I would put her in a 'real world' scenario. And have a lot of fun with her. **

** Plus, let's be honest. It's way past time this happened. **

**Anger Management With The Figgis Agency **

"I can't believe you're making us **do this!"** Cheryl complained as the majority of the Figgis Agency walked into a large conference room in a fancy office building. "Why the hell do we need to take an anger management class?"

Ray looked at her. "Some would argue that this group should have taken an anger management class **years ago**!"

"You **know** why we're doing this!" Cyril snapped. "If you lot want poker nights, bear claws and alcohol reinstated in the office…"

"We know," Pam rolled her eyes. "You already gave us this lecture Professor Dumble-Snore! I want to know why Ms. Archer isn't here?"

"Yeah she's where at least forty percent of the blind rage in this office comes from anyway!" Ray added.

"Because she's at the hospital watching over where **fifty percent** of the blind rage comes from," Cyril told them. "Those two are a lost cause anyway! I may not be able to do something about them but I can do something about **you idiots**! Or at the very least cut down on the knife fights!"

"Technically they weren't fights," Pam remarked. "Just displays of aggression."

"You realize you just proved Cyril's point, right?" Krieger asked Pam.

"You're gonna get a point to the chest if you **don't shut up**!" Pam snapped. "It's not like you're a hundred percent innocent on this!"

"At least I don't body slam people into walls when we run out of bear claws!" Krieger snapped.

"Only because you don't have the body weight," Pam snorted.

"This group is **way overdue** for an anger management class," Cyril sighed.

"You want to have an anger management class without Mallory or Archer?" Lana asked. "Now that I think about it, that is the best way for us to have an anger management class."

"If only we could get rid of a few **more people**," Cyril remarked. "Then it would be perfect."

"Staring with you," Cheryl looked at Cyril.

"I don't know why you wouldn't let **me** do this," Krieger sniffed as they sat down in some chairs that were in a semi-circle. "I could run this seminar for free."

"Three reasons," Cyril gave him a look. "One, Dr. Price is a **real doctor** with an **actual **medical license."

"Psychiatry," Krieger sniffed.

"Still a real doctor," Lana said.

"AKA several steps up from **you,**" Cyril said to Krieger. "Two, I didn't feel like taking an acid trip today. Or three…Some god-awful experiment using jumper cables!"

"Wait," Cheryl realized something. "The jumper cables were an **option**?"

"Listen to me you maniacs," Cyril growled at the group. "Dr. Price is one of the best anger management therapists in the world. I was extremely lucky to get an appointment with her on short notice. It will be worth the several thousand dollars I paid if I can get **any** of you dysfunctional dipsticks to shape up even **a little**! So, **everyone** is going to cooperate and behave yourselves and at least pretend to be normal rational adults for a few hours! Or else I will use a tire iron to **beat** you people into submission and then shove it up your asses! GOT IT?"

Ray rolled his eyes. "Yeah, **we're** the ones who need anger management therapy."

"I know, right?" Krieger remarked.

Cheryl spoke up. "I vote tire iron."

"Good morning," A blonde woman in a well-dressed gray pantsuit and heels walked into the room, carrying a briefcase and a legal pad. "The Figgis Agency is it?"

"Yes, Dr. Price," Cyril stood up and shook her hand. "I'm Cyril Figgis. We spoke on the phone. Thank you very much for seeing our group."

"Well office tension is one of the top triggers of anger," Dr. Price nodded as she put down her briefcase. "As I explained in my award-winning book, _Office Anger And You_. And in my other award-winning book_, It's Not Them, It's Probably You." _

"Namedropper," Krieger grumbled under his breath.

"Thank you very much for coming," Cyril began.

"Phrasing boom!" Cheryl called out.

"On my…" Pam began.

"PAM!" Cyril cut her off. He turned back to Dr. Price. "Let's just say our office is overdue for an anger management seminar."

"He threatened us with a tire iron if we didn't behave," Cheryl said cheerfully. "Are you sure that's still not an option?"

"Figuratively!" Cyril protested. "I used it as a figure of speech! Figuratively threatened!"

"Well that's no fun," Cheryl sighed. "Lame!"

"Sounded pretty much like you'd use a real tire iron to me," Ray remarked.

"DO YOU MIND?" Cyril shouted.

"Mr. Figgis relax," Dr. Price waved. "I have heard a lot of things in my twelve years as a psychiatrist. An outburst like that is more common than you think. As I have written in my book, _Managing Your Anger Management_…People get flustered and aren't able to fully communicate their feelings with rational words. They substitute what they really want to say with things like murder. Or strangle. Or tire iron."

"Or literal emasculation," Pam remarked.

"That's Mallory! Not Cyril!" Lana said.

"Who?" Dr. Price asked.

"She's not here," Cyril sighed. "Don't worry about it. In fact, this might go pretty well today due to the fact that she's **not **here. Just go ahead and start Doctor." He sat back down.

"All right," Dr. Price said as she stood in front of the room, holding her notepad. "Hello there. I am Doctor Glenda Price and I will be conducting this anger management seminar today. How about we all go around the room and introduce ourselves?"

"We all know who we are," Pam spoke up.

"Yes, well I don't know **you, **do I?" Dr. Price said calmly.

"Duh!" Cheryl rolled her eyes.

"Obviously," Krieger added at the same time.

"Okay," Dr. Price began again. "We all go around the room and introduce ourselves. And tell a little something about ourselves."

"We all know **that **too!" Pam interrupted again.

"We know a little **too much** about each other now that I think about it," Ray groaned.

Pam went on. "I mean we have been pretty much together almost twenty-four seven for over 12 years!"

"No wonder we need therapy," Lana groaned.

"Burn," Ray admitted.

"Again," Dr. Price pushed on. "**I** don't know you people. The point of this exercise is to get to know all of you better. I want you to not only tell me something about yourselves, but what makes you angry. For example. My name is Dr. Glenda Price. I've written several books on Anger Management and conducted thousands of several seminars and counseling sessions all over the world. I enjoy traveling and taking pictures of gazebos. What makes me angry is when I get **interrupted**."

"Prepare to get really ticked off today, Doc," Krieger remarked.

"Okay I'll start," Cyril said. "My name is Cyril Figgis. I'm the head of this agency. I think elevators and stamps are fascinating. What makes me angry is that I feel nobody takes me seriously."

"We don't," Ray spoke up.

"You forgot you are also a sex addict," Pam added. "Who banged every woman in this room."

"He did _what now?"_ Dr. Price looked at Cyril.

"It's not like I was the **only one**!" Cyril snapped.

"Oh my," Dr. Price sighed as she wrote something down on her legal pad. "This may cross over to a sexual harassment workshop."

"What?" Cyril did a double take.

Lana stood up. "My name is Lana Kane. I'm the best agent at the Figgis Agency."

Cyril did a double take. "You **are**?"

"Since **when?**" Ray shouted.

"Yeah I missed **that **memo," Pam agreed.

Lana ignored them. "I have a three-year-old daughter named Abbiejean."

"Who she got by stealing Archer's sperm," Cheryl spoke up.

"Which was a waste of time," Cyril said. "Considering how often he gave it away for free."

"Who is Archer?" Dr. Price blinked.

"My on again, off again semi-ex-boyfriend," Lana groaned. "Don't ask. By the way he's the one thing that really makes me angry."

"To be fair," Ray said. "Archer being in a coma is one of the best things that could have happened to your relationship."

"And this office," Cyril chimed in.

"At least they're not arguing about Veronica Stupid Deane anymore," Cheryl agreed.

"Lana also used to date Cyril," Pam spoke up. "That's on and off again too. Until she dumped him by having Archer's kid."

"Only because he cheated on me!" Lana pointed. "With you and Cheryl!"

"Not the second time!" Cyril protested. "And the only reason I slept with Cheryl was because she blackmailed me!"

"You weren't blackmailed the **first time,"** Cheryl said. "All those other times yeah but not the first!"

"That's because I was drunk and high!" Cyril snapped. "By your stupid drugged up groovy gummy bears! And I was drunk when Pam slept with me too!"

"There is definitely some overlap to sexual harassment here," Dr. Price groaned.

Pam stood up. "My name is Pam Poovey. I'm a championship competitive eater. I'm a really good driver since I drag raced street cars for the Yakuza. What makes me angry is fat jokes, comments about my weight and these bitches constantly whining about their love lives!"

"But you have **no problems** reporting on them to anyone who will listen do you?" Lana snapped.

"I'm a people person," Pam remarked.

"You're a damn gossip," Ray spoke up. "**That's **what you are!"

"**You're** one to talk," Pam snapped. "Hedda Ray Hopper!"

"Yeah let's talk about sexual harassment **there**!" Cyril pointed. "She slept with practically everyone in this office whether they wanted to or not! Both men and women!"

"What about Ray?" Lana asked. "She didn't have sex with Ray."

"Depends on if the elevator incident counts," Ray said. "To be fair she did kind of cross a few boundaries there."

"That's because Pam doesn't have any!" Cyril protested. "She even sexually assaulted a few sandwiches!"

"First of all," Pam corrected. "They were burritos. **My burritos**. It's not like Krieger during his food raping phase."

"_Food raping?"_ Dr. Price did a double take. "What the hell is **food raping?"**

"It's exactly what it sounds like," Ray groaned.

"He used to heat up other people's foods in the microwave," Cheryl explained. "Put his dick in them and…"

"I get the picture," Dr. Price look horrified.

"At least I simulated sex with my own burritos **fully clothed**!" Pam pointed out. "Most of the time."

"Okay…" Dr. Price wrote something down on her pad. "This is new."

Krieger stood up. "Okay first of all I am Doctor Algernop Krieger…"

"_Algernop?"_ Dr. Price blinked.

"I think I was supposed to be named Algernon," Krieger admitted. "But there was a typo. Anyway, I'm a doctor like yourself."

"No, you aren't," Cyril sighed. "In any sense of the word."

"I'm known as the Q of the group," Krieger went on. "The James Bond one. Not the Star Trek one."

Ray added. "You are also known as The Pita Predator."

"Suspect Number One," Lana added.

"Not to mention possible clone of Adolph Hitler," Pam added.

"I don't even **look** like Hitler!" Krieger shouted.

"Clones don't always look like their donors," Cheryl pointed out. "And you may not even be the original Krieger. You could be one of your dopple-Krieger clones from San Marcos."

"That has never been proven and you know it!" Krieger snapped.

"Well whatever he is," Pam waved. "He's some kind of whacked out Nazi experiment."

"And how is that **my fault**?" Krieger asked. "Ms. Archer stole me from my home as a child after murdering my father with my pet Dobermans. And burned my father's compound to the ground. So many innocent lab rats gone too soon. Before I could do anything to them."

"Are you people _serious?"_ Dr. Price did a double take.

"Did I mention our agency used to be a spy agency?" Cyril sighed.

"An **illegal **spy agency," Lana admitted. "Mallory's fault. Don't ask."

"What makes me angry is that you people immediately assume that I'm a clone or a clone of a clone without any proof," Krieger spoke up. "And don't say the tie thing because that's flimsy at best. I'm just not into bowties anymore. What? A guy's fashion needs to keep up with the times."

"Can we move on please?" Dr. Price winced as she wrote something else in her notes.

Cheryl stood up. "My name is Cheryl and/or Carol Tunt. My hobbies are sniffing glue, rummaging through dumpsters and setting gazebos on fire. What makes me mad are babies, boring people, Ms. Archer, creepy dwarves, all other kinds of dwarves, macramé, ostriches, giving money to the poor, people interrupting me, people giving me orders when they are clearly **not **my supervisor, people who don't put out, bad orgasms, and people putting out my fires. Oh, and pretty much everything else."

Lana spoke up. "You forgot that you're also a sex addicted, drug addicted, idiot masochist who's a waste of a human life."

"Oh, thanks Lana," Cheryl nodded. "I forgot that part. HEY! I'm **not **_an idiot!_ I mean everything else is pretty much true…"

"My name is Ray Gillette," Ray stood up. "And I'd like nothing better to get as far away from these people as possible. I just hate my life."

"To be fair," Cheryl added. "God isn't that thrilled with your life either. Not the gay part. That's the only part that's interesting. But from what I've seen, he just likes to screw with you."

"What's wrong with your hand?" Dr. Price noticed Ray's hand.

Ray took the glove off for a moment. "It's a bionic hand. Krieger gave me it because he ran out of white ones."

"I almost gave you the one with claws," Krieger remarked. "But then I realized that green scales would clash with your outfit."

"Told you," Cheryl shrugged. "God loves to screw with him."

"He also tried to screw me!" Cyril snapped.

"Well not as much as Pam or Cheryl did!" Ray snapped. "They did way worse to you!"

"You did **enough!**" Cyril snapped.

"Oh please!" Ray snapped. "I know for a fact that you let Lana do way worse things to you! At least I didn't make you dress up like a flower in a G-string and dance!"

"Damn it!" Cheryl snapped her fingers. "I should have thought of that!"

"Me too," Pam said.

Dr. Price coughed. "Okay. I'm getting a picture here. Obviously, we have some work to do. A **lot** of work to do. Let's start by taking some nice calming breaths, shall we?"

Cheryl held up her hand. "I also don't like heavy breathers. Or people who breathe a lot. I don't mind people who don't really breathe at all. At least they're quiet and don't complain."

"I could go either way," Krieger shrugged.

"Let's start," Dr. Price put down the pad. "Everyone stand up. That's good. Now breathe in. And breathe out…Breathe in. Breathe out."

"I'm getting triggered!" Cheryl called out.

"No, you're not!" Ray snapped.

"Okay I'm just bored," Cheryl admitted. "That's one of my triggers."

"And one of my triggers is you acting like an asshole!" Lana snapped.

"I thought it was when Archer was acting like an asshole?" Pam asked.

"Well he's not here," Cheryl said. "So, I have to pick up his slack as usual! Or is it slacks? I mean it's a singular word but it's in the plural…"

"Will you people please just breathe?" Dr. Price groaned.

"_Brilliant counseling_ doctor," Krieger said sarcastically.

"Krieger, shut up!" Cyril snapped.

"I know," Ray said. "Could you be any more jealous?"

Krieger shouted. "YES! GOD DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!" He fell to his knees and started pounding the floor. "I wanted to lead the seminar! I just made some new psychotropic drugs I wanted to try out."

"Then give them to your damn radioactive pigs!" Lana snapped.

"**Good idea** Lana," Ray said sarcastically. "Give the homicidal radioactive pigs drugs to make them even crazier."

"Not **all** of my pigs are radioactive!" Krieger snapped. "Or homicidal. Technically."

"Okay!" Dr. Price called out. "Let's **forget** the breathing! Let's move onto something else."

"Can we move to a bar?" Pam called out. "It's two for one night at Pita Margaritas!"

"Didn't we get banned from Pita Margaritas?" Krieger asked as he stood up.

"Not the one on 33rd Street," Pam told him.

"That's the one that burned down," Ray said.

"They rebuilt it," Cyril told him. "It looks nice. It has all new people who have no idea who we are."

"Lucky them," Dr. Price sighed. "Okay this next exercise…"

"Is it scream therapy?" Cheryl asked.

"No," Dr. Price sighed. "It's…."

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Cheryl screamed at the top of her lungs.

"It's not…" Dr. Price began.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Cheryl screamed again.

"I'm **not**…" Dr. Price was starting to get angry.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Cheryl screamed yet again.

"Will you…?" Dr. Price fumed.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Cheryl screamed. Until Pam grabbed her by the throat. "ACK! EK!"

"SHUT THE HELL UP BIRD BRAIN!" Pam shouted. "BEFORE I BREAK EVERY BONE IN YOUR SCRAWNY NECK!"

"SERIOUSLY!" Ray snapped as he rubbed his ears.

"GOD DAMN IT!" Cyril shouted.

"CAN'T YOU GO ANYWHERE WITHOUT CAUSING A SCENE?" Lana shouted.

"**YOU'RE** MAKING A SCENE!" Cheryl sputtered as Pam let go of her neck.

"ONLY BECAUSE **YOU ARE**!" Lana snapped.

"WILL YOU STOP YELLING?" Cyril shouted.

"**YOU** STOP YELLING!" Ray shouted.

"**YOU** STOP YELLING!" Cyril shouted at Ray.

"WAY TO GO DOC!" Krieger called out. "**GREAT **THERAPY!"

"ALL OF YOU **SHUT UP!"** Dr. Price shouted. She collected herself. "Okay, that is an example of what **not** to do."

"Then why did you do it?" Pam asked.

"Just…" Dr. Price was flustered. Then took some calming breaths. "Okay. Let's try something that **doesn't** involve screaming."

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"CHERYL!" Dr. Price snapped.

"What?" Cheryl snapped. "That one wasn't **me!**"

Everyone looked at Ray. "Oh sure," Ray folded his arms. "Blame the guy with a high vocal range."

Dr. Price took another deep breath. "As I was saying…Or trying to say. Let's do something a little more productive. A different technique for dealing with our anger. Let's start with some I Statements."

"Is that like I Hop?" Pam asked. "I could go for pancakes."

"No," Dr. Price told her. "I statements are a way of framing your feelings without placing blame. Such as I feel slightly frustrated because I feel that you people aren't taking this class seriously."

"I feel that I am bored because you're just trying to tell us what to do," Cheryl spoke up.

"Cheryl," Cyril said. "I feel that since** I** am paying a lot of money for this class that it would be beneficial for all of us if you just shut your damn mouth."

"I feel like I agree with that sentiment," Lana added.

Dr. Price spoke up. "I also would like to state that I have noticed that the date on the check is for two days from now!"

"Really?" Cyril blinked innocently. "I could have sworn that today was the 14th."

"No, it is not," Dr. Price said. "I feel like you know **exactly** what today's date is."

"I don't even know what **year** this is," Krieger said admittedly. "I feel it is possible that Cyril made a mistake."

"We do take a lot of drugs," Cyril coughed. "A lot of drugs. I was probably on something. Yes. I believe I was definitely **on something**. My bad. Heh. Heh."

"I believe you **are** on something," Pam remarked. "If you think the doc here is going to buy that lame ass excuse."

Cheryl rolled her eyes. "Well I feel like you people are trying to impose your will on me! I'm a free thinker!"

"That implies you **think** at all," Ray said. "Sorry. I mean **I think** that implies that you think at all."

Krieger added. "I feel like Cheryl does these things because she constantly craves attention and doesn't care if it's positive or negative. I also feel like she should shut her pie hole and give **other people** a damn turn!"

"I feel like Krieger has hit the nail on the head," Pam said. "Damn maybe we didn't need this fancy doctor?"

"I feel a little annoyed by that comment," Dr. Price looked at her.

Cyril spoke up. "I feel like I'm doing all the work trying to keep this agency afloat and nobody **appreciates** it!"

"**You **are doing all the work?" Lana looked at him. "I feel like you are not taking my contributions into account!"

Ray spoke up. "I feel like Lana is starting to act like an entitled Mallory clone."

"I feel you'd better **take that back**," Lana glared at him. "Before you get your teeth knocked out."

"I feel closer to Lana when she threatens people," Cheryl spoke up. "I feel she should do it to me more often."

"I would," Lana sighed. "If I didn't feel that you would get off when I did."

"I feel like I can't help where my sexual arousals come from," Cheryl shrugged.

"I feel like you have a serious problem with your violence fetish," Krieger said. "I feel like I am not a judgmental person on that…But in your case... I'm judging."

"I feel like Krieger is right," Ray nodded.

"I feel like the lot of you are sexual deviants," Cyril added.

"This from the guy who admits he's a sex addict," Pam snorted.

"At least I **admit **I have a problem!" Cyril snapped. "Which by the way, I believe came about due to my continued exposure to you idiots!"

"You can't catch sex addiction like it's the common cold, Cyril!" Lana snapped.

Cyril turned on her. "I feel like you haven't been paying attention all these years if you believe that. I also feel like you are forgetting some of your own weird fetishes that you have in the bedroom."

"I feel this conversation just became more interesting," Ray perked up.

"Me too!" Krieger added.

"I feel like you should **shut up** and mind your own damn business!" Lana glared at them.

"Lana, I believe you should know by now that they **can't!"** Cyril snapped.

"I believe you shouldn't be so judgmental Cyril," Ray said. "Considering what we know about **your **sex life and who and what you've humped over the years!"

"I feel like you should **shut up**," Cyril glared at Ray. "Considering what we know about the sordid details of your love life!"

"I feel like an elevator masturbator has **no right** to judge my sex life!" Ray snapped back.

"I feel like I do," Cyril challenged. "Since you felt me up in the damn bathroom!"

"I happen to notice that you don't seem as angry that both Pam and Cheryl had their way with you," Ray added. "Repeatedly. And it was ten more times worse than anything I ever did!"

"Because they are **women!**" Cyril snapped.

"Sexist," Ray remarked. "Sorry. I **think** you are a sexist."

"I think Ray isn't that far off with that sexist remark," Lana added.

"I don't understand why you are on _his side?"_ Cyril turned on Lana. "I feel that your trust issues with Archer are still influencing your relationships!"

"I feel that the fact that you also cheated on me," Lana folded her arms. "Adds to my particular trust issues with you! Several times I might add!"

"I feel like that you can't let that go with **me**," Cyril said. "But you can let it go with Archer!"

"I feel like I know **exactly** what you are talking about," Ray remarked.

"Fine!" Cyril sighed. "Ray, I forgive you for the bathroom incident! I feel like our friendship is strong enough so we can move past it."

"Well I feel pretty bad about what happened," Ray said. "And if we do make out again, I feel I should at least make sure you're conscious. Or know it's me in the closet."

"Phrasing!" Pam said. "Sorry. I feel like that's phrasing."

"And I also feel like I can forgive Pam and Cheryl for what they did to me," Cyril sighed. "As well as Krieger's swamp monster Blinky."

"Oh yeah," Cheryl realized. "I forgot about the Japanese hot tub. I **liked **Blinky!"

"Me too," Pam said. "I wonder whatever happened to the little guy?"

Lana let out a breath. "I feel that you have a point about me holding onto resentment. I feel that it is hard to change. But I feel that I have to let go of the past. Eventually."

"That's all I ask," Cyril said.

"I feel like we should have group sex to celebrate," Pam grinned.

"I feel like that is a bad idea," Ray looked at her.

"Okay how about we just pair off?" Pam asked. "I'm game for anyone. How about if I had a threesome with Cyril and Lana?"

"I feel…" Cyril paused. "That I am not completely opposed to that idea. I mean I feel if Lana would be interested…"

"I feel…" Lana paused. "Well she was really good in bed. I feel maybe in the future and after some negotiations? And a large bottle of wine."

"I feel that I would also like some negotiations with group sex," Krieger spoke up. "Or one on one. No pressure."

"I feel like I wouldn't mind some negotiations on that topic," Ray shrugged.

"Me too!" Cheryl giggled. "Oh, come on Ray! You don't even have to have sex with me! You could just choke me."

"I admit I am not completely abhorrent to the idea of choking you," Ray looked at her.

"Me too," Pam nodded. "I think we're making real progress today!"

"I think you people are some of the **biggest degenerates** I've ever met," Dr. Price was horrified.

"I feel like you're overcharging Cyril for stuff we could have probably figured out ourselves," Krieger added. "Doctor!"

"Let's go to another exercise," Dr. Price groaned. "Just move off of **this!"**

"When do we get the bats out and start hitting each other with them?" Pam asked.

"Oh no!" Ray snapped. "I saw that episode of the Simpsons! You're just gonna take off the foam padding and hit people with the metal bars!"

"Actually, there is no metal in the new bats," Dr. Price paused. "They are completely harmless and…That's not a bad idea."

Dr. Price went to a nearby bin and took out several brightly colored foam bats. "These are completely harmless." She handed them out to the Figgis Agency. "No metal inside them."

"Lame," Cheryl groaned.

"Now," Dr. Price took out a whistle. "When I blow this whistle, you…"

"Whack everybody's asses!" Pam called out. "We know how this works."

"Usually we do it with a **real** baseball bat," Krieger nodded.

"Well that is what you do until I blow the whistle for a second time," Dr. Price said. "Now get ready…"

"CRY HAVOC AND LET LOOSE THE DOGS OF WAR BITCHES!" Cheryl screamed as she started whacking Krieger and then Pam.

"Wait! Wait!" Dr. Price called out.

"SCREW WAITING!" Cyril shouted. "EAT FOAM YOU CRAZY BITCH!"

"CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGE!" Ray shouted.

"Or you could all just attack each other…" Dr. Price sighed as the Figgis Agency started to hit each other with the foam bats. "Well at least they can't do any real damage."

Dr. Price soon regretted those words.

What happened next was complete and total pandemonium.

"AAAAH!" Dr. Price screamed as a chair was thrown. She jumped, barely dodging it.

It was pure war. Each member of the Figgis Agency was not only using the foam bats like a martial art weapon, they were using other means of mass destruction. Throwing chairs. Kicking. Biting. Punching.

"STOP! STOP!" Dr. Price blew the whistle. But they ignored her and kept going.

In fact, another chair flung through the air nearly hitting Dr. Price again. She screamed when it imbedded itself into the wall. "WHAT THE HELL?"

"Sorry!" Ray called out. "I keep forgetting my own strength!"

"OH, DEAR GOD!" Cyril screamed.

"I smell smoke…" Dr. Price blinked. Then she saw Cheryl waving her foam bat like a torch. Because the top of it was on fire. "OH MY GOD!"

"HA HA HA HA HA!" Cheryl cackled. "BURN! BURN! BURN!"

Before Dr. Price could do anything, she got whacked by a flying chair. "Ooohh!" She then passed out unconscious.

The next thing she knew,(besides having a splitting headache) Lana shouted. "Okay whose turn was it to check Cheryl for matches **this time?"**

"I keep telling you people we should make a chore wheel," Ray grumbled.

"Oohhh," Dr. Price groaned. Then she realized she was also soaking wet. "What in the world…" She sat up and looked around.

Several chairs were thrown all over the room. Some were in the walls. There were some burned chairs as well as some scorch marks on the walls. And a few burned foam bats. The rest were broken up into pieces all over the floor. The sprinklers on the roof were petering out. And the Figgis Agency were all in their underwear.

Pam was sitting on Cheryl. "Best therapy session ever!" Cheryl giggled.

"Well that was a waste of time," Krieger remarked.

"I don't know," Cyril said. "I actually feel better."

"I do too," Lana admitted.

"I think the therapy is actually working," Pam said.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU PEOPLE DO?" Dr. Price stood up and screamed at them.

"Oh yeah…" Ray winced as he looked around. "Sorry about that."

"I guess things got a little out of hand," Cyril gulped.

"YOU **THINK?"** Dr. Price shouted.

"Yes!" Cheryl said cheerfully as Pam let her up.

"WHY DID YOU PEOPLE TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES?" Dr. Price screamed.

Pam shrugged. "Force of habit I guess."

"I didn't even realize I did it," Lana admitted.

"Well it is easier to fight this way," Ray admitted.

"I can't believe you did this!" Dr. Price shouted.

"I can't believe Cyril isn't masturbating," Pam quipped.

"That's because we're not in an elevator!" Cheryl looked at Pam. "Duh!"

"Oh right," Pam realized.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" Dr. Price screamed.

"Are we doing scream therapy now?" Ray asked.

"**Therapy?** _Therapy?_" Dr. Price yelled. "The only therapy that can cure you people is a bullet in the brain!"

"Whoa!" Pam said. "Hostile therapy environment!"

"What's your problem?" Cheryl scoffed.

"My problem is that made the mistake of taking this group!" Dr. Price shouted. "You people are the most insane, annoying, violent, extremely neurotic sex addicts I have ever met!"

"Told you sex addiction was a thing!" Cyril pointed out.

"I am going to say something I never thought I would say to any patient!" Dr. Price snapped. "You people can't be helped!"

"How professional," Krieger scoffed. "So much for your Hippocratic oath **Doctor!**"

"That's the only thing keeping me from **strangling** you all right now!" Dr. Price snarled.

"Okay so we have some anger issues," Lana admitted.

"**SOME** ANGER ISSUES?" Dr. Price shouted. "Bruce Banner has **some anger issues!** Godzilla has **some anger issues**! You people are freaking deranged mental cases!"

"Is that your _professional opinion_?" Krieger asked sarcastically.

"My professional opinion," Dr. Price said. "Is that you people have a sick, disgusting hypersexual group dynamic laced with violence, insecurity, and lack of boundaries that is so intertwined it's **incestuous**! This office doesn't have an anger management problem! Or a sexual harassment problem! It's that **you people** are the problem! Separate you are all toxic and damaged enough to infect any normal, healthy group…But **together!** Together you lot are like the **bubonic plague**! Capable of destroying any office environment! I can't understand how this group ever got together! Or stayed together! The only reason I can think of why you people are still together is that **nobody else** will put up with you!"

"That's pretty much what a lot of people have said about us," Pam admitted.

"This is nothing we weren't already aware of," Ray sighed.

"What did we need her for again?" Cheryl asked pointing at Dr. Price.

"The only reason I am **not **telling you people to separate and get as far away from each other as humanly possible…" Dr. Price fumed. "Is because I don't want your insanity to infect anyone else! In fact, you should all be locked away! No, even better. You should be stranded alone on a desert island to protect the human race! And then you can all kill each other! OR JUST KILL EACH OTHER NOW BECAUSE YOU PEOPLE ARE HOPELESS!"

"Well that's just poor counseling," Cyril sniffed.

"Seriously Cyril," Ray remarked. "Where did you get **this nut?"**

"You think **I'm crazy**?" Dr. Price snarled. "Denial! Classic denial! I don't know why I'm so surprised! It's classic narcissistic behavior!"

Pam held up her hand. "WHAT?" Dr. Price shouted. "What could you possibly ask that I haven't already clarified?"

Pam spoke up. "Okay I was going to save this until after the session but…Are you seeing anybody? I mean are you available?"

"Are you actually…" Dr. Price was stunned. "_**Sexually propositioning**_ me?"

"Well not if you're going to be a bitch about it!" Pam snapped.

"I don't think she's interested, Pam," Lana sighed.

"Are you not interested because you prefer the fellas?" Krieger asked. "Or…? What? It's a valid question! I'm not being judgmental!"

"Well **I am**!" Dr. Price shouted. "And I am judging you all to be **losers!"** She started pointing to the members of the Figgis Agency in turn.

"Loser!" She pointed at Krieger.

"Loser!" She pointed to Pam.

"Loser!" She pointed to Ray.

"Arsonist!" She pointed to Cheryl. "And a loser!"

"Loser!" She pointed to Cyril.

"Loser!" She pointed to Lana.

"HEY!" Cyril shouted. "Lana is **not** a loser! She's the bravest, toughest most ethical woman I have ever met!"

Dr. Price looked at him. "You don't have a large circle of friends do you?"

"At least he **has **friends!" Lana growled.

"Yeah I don't see too many people hanging around **you!**" Pam added. "That don't have to pay!"

"I hate to say it," Cheryl said. "But both Lana and Cyril have really stepped up. I mean I don't listen much anyway. But it's good that they are filling the role of responsible people. I mean it's no fun doing what you want if there's nobody to rebel against! That's just common sense!"

"Bitch who do you think you are judging us?" Ray added.

"Some doctor," Krieger scoffed.

"I am a certified doctor!" Dr. Price snapped.

"You're certifiable all right," Pam remarked.

"You haven't said anything that we couldn't have looked up over the internet," Krieger said. "Just saying. And to make such a sweeping analysis of our group after not even one session…Pretty unprofessional."

"You don't know us!" Cyril protested. "You don't know what we've been through!"

"I'd rather not," Dr. Price snapped. "I'll let the Center for Disease Control figure it out!"

"She's not my supervisor, is she?" Cheryl asked.

"No, she is not," Lana folded her arms.

"Good," Cheryl narrowed her eyes.

Suddenly she pounced on Dr. Price. Somehow, she had grabbed part of a foam bat and started beating her with it. "AAAHHH!" Dr. Price screamed. "Get her off! GET HER OFF!"

"Phrasing!" Pam called out.

"Actually, it would be phrasing if she said **she's** getting off," Ray corrected.

"I am so getting off on this!" Cheryl whooped.

"Okay **now** it's phrasing," Ray said.

"YEOWWW!" Dr. Price screamed. "SHE BIT ME!"

"Yeah, she does that," Cyril sighed.

"AAAAHH!" Dr. Price shoved Cheryl off and got to her feet. "YOU PEOPLE ARE SICK! SICK! SICKOS! SICK!" She ran for the door. "SICK!"

"You might get sick," Pam called out. "Unless you got a rabies shot."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" Dr. Price screamed as she ran away.

"I am so stopping payment on that check," Cyril said.

"Yeah good thinking about doing the old date switcheroo," Pam nodded.

"We sent our anger management therapist screaming," Lana sighed. "And yet for some reason I actually feel good about it. What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing. She's a quack," Krieger shrugged.

"I think it's because we actually got some of our aggression out," Pam said. "We just needed to clear the air."

"By trashing a room, terrifying an innocent woman and beating the shit out of each other?" Lana asked.

"It worked didn't it?" Pam asked.

Lana blinked. "Huh."

"Krieger you were right," Ray started to collect his clothes. "We didn't need that woman after all."

"I know right?" Krieger said as the gang started to collect and put their clothes on. "We could have done this back at the agency. Or in a bar."

"Well not if we want to keep going **back** to the bar," Cyril said. "Speaking of which, Pita Margarita's sounds great."

"But what if Dr. Price tries to sue us?" Ray asked.

"Please," Cheryl waved. "I'll sic my lawyers on her. They'll counter sue her so hard she'll be lucky to manage a counter at Denny's. Much less run an anger management class."

"Something tells me she's not going to be in any shape to run anything for a while," Lana said. "Except far away from us."

"We do have that effect on people, don't we?" Ray asked.


End file.
